Hello, male student Youyou

Author: Xia Xue
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: The situation was like this. On the morning of September 21st, I was watching the live broadcast of Li Ao's speech at Peking University on Phoenix TV. Phone calls and visitors kept coming. Around noon, a reporter from Phoenix TV with a camera came to film the hospital room environment and interviewed me on the spot. I was stiff-faced and dressed in nice clothes; it was impossible not to be nervous, but I should say I was so tense I didn’t even realize I was nervous—face unchanged but heart racing. It was mainly because the atmosphere was so unusual. Li Ao was supposed to come at noon, and I was putting increasing pressure on myself. My mother went to the balcony to look down and saw the place was packed with people—crowded, noisy, and a sea of faces. There were onlookers, mostly reporters, who were kept outside the security line. Suddenly, I heard a commotion downstairs, and someone said, "He’s here! He’s here!" Since I couldn’t see the process with my eyes, I could only imagine it with my ears. The hallway was filled with footsteps, dense and relentless like the tide of the Qiantang River. In an instant, I felt as if I were about to be swept away. There was no nervousness or excitement, only a silent acceptance. The only thought in my mind was: He’s here. I leaned against the bed, looking at the door, waiting for Li Ao to appear. Then, Li Ao did. He was still wearing the dark suit and white pants he had worn during his speech at Peking University, with a red tie. Since I watched him every day on "Li Ao Has Something to Say," seeing him in person was quite amusing. He was like someone who had jumped out of the TV screen right before me. Li Ao was very cautious and said he wouldn’t shake hands with me. He walked to the bedside, his small eyes behind the sunglasses examining me, then produced a small book out of nowhere—it was the one I had mentioned in my letter, Education and Masks, the 1964 edition of Wenxing Series 75. He smiled and said, "I brought something you don’t have. I’ve been saving it without writing in it, and I’ll write here." Then he added, "I didn’t expect you to be so tall." As he spoke, he sat down in a chair, took out his favorite fountain pen, as if determined to prove his "first-rate" handwriting. He said, "Write in your language." On the title page, he wrote: "There is more to you than meets the eye, especially you." After finishing, he said, "Let your mother take a look first." I didn’t lag behind and took out my Whose Youth Was as Wild as Mine, which had my newly neat handwriting on it. I smiled and said, "Your handwriting is better than mine." Then I read aloud, "You once had youth like mine, and I will have joy like yours. Who dares to cry, though a thousand may oppose me, and who will hold two billion years in their hands? September 21st (conceived on the afternoon of September 19th, when you were in the sky)." Li Ao listened and said, "Good." The two of us understood each other without words. Later reports said that Li Ao and I met but didn’t talk much, just clasped hands tightly together—it was a big joke! Because besides the Phoenix media, all the other reporters were kept outside the hospital, how could they know what was happening inside the room? Throughout the encounter, Li Ao kept his distance, respecting my status as a patient. I couldn’t help but recall how young Li Ao was described when he first met Hu Shi decades ago: polite, considerate, and approachable. Now I’d say Li Ao fits those words perfectly, his elderly demeanor undeniable and deeply touching. I remembered describing this exchange during a press interview, calling it a dialogue between the strong and the strong, between mountains and mountains. This must sound like another outburst of mine, but actually, it’s quite true. I showed Li Ao my wounds, and he laughed and talked about his own illness. I thought of the seventeen-year-old Li Ao seeing Qian Mu—his height seemed too small, and his appearance didn’t match his reputation, making Li Ao almost doubt whether this was really Qian Mu. His humility also made Li Ao question the breadth of Qian Mu’s knowledge, let alone Yin Haiguang, who made the young Li Ao feel uncomfortable. Hu Shi was the same. Time flies, and the Li Ao sitting before me now doesn’t seem to fear me, nor does he have a bad impression of me in his heart? Haha.